


Purgatory Pas de Deux

by Maldoror_Chant



Series: Keep Those Angels Aloft [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguments, But I love that it is, Castiel Possessing Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Followed by Warm And Fluffy Feelings, Humor, I cannot believe that's an actual tag, M/M, So a loooot of swearing, angels can fly, brief outsider POV, dash of angst, divergent from season 9, mostly Dean POV, situated around season 10, switching POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maldoror_Chant/pseuds/Maldoror_Chant
Summary: Isn’t there a rule by now? An eleventh Commandment? A burst of star activity in a far off galaxy that created a new constellation reading “DON’T SCREW WITH THE WINCHESTERS”? Because if there isn’t, there really should be.On the plus side? Dean gets to punch a Leviathan again.On the downside, Cas died. While waiting for that to wear off, Dean discovers that having Cas inside him is...a lot more complicated than when that sentence is used in bed.(can be read standalone)





	Purgatory Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> In the continuity of Penitentiary Wing and Mind the Gap, but can be read standalone. All you need to know is that Naomi’s in charge in the Penthouse, angels can still fly, and Cas chose to live on Earth and hook up with Dean because that’s better than Heaven any day.

It didn’t have a name originally. Leviathans were sentient balls of goo armed with fangs and an eternal hunger, they didn’t go around introducing themselves. But on earth it had eaten a plastic surgeon named Matt Wycombe whose appearance it had liked enough to keep, and so it now went by that name among his fellow Leviathans. 

To everyone else in his pathetic Purgatory group, he was simply known as Boss. 

“Do you understand?” Wycombe gave his ‘troops’ one last scrutiny. “We only have one shot at this. I doubt even these fools will fall for the same trap twice, and we cannot disguise the central sigil in any way that- why am I wasting time explaining this to you. It’s simple: succeed in your task and you will be rewarded. Fail and I will eat every last one of you. Understand?”

The motley crew nodded - the vampires, the vetala, that werewolf and the weird thing that kept shedding its skin all over the place. And those two lesser god servants who were in this for revenge - a good motivator. Apparently their parent deity had been killed by one of those they would trap here today. 

Wycombe was here for ambition. That and hunger were the only two buttons a Leviathan could be said to possess. The primordial Entity known to humans as Dick Roman had fallen. It was recovering here in Purgatory, but that would take decades, maybe centuries, and it could no longer hold the cohesion of the Leviathan in the meantime. Which meant it was now every sentient ball of fanged goo out for itself.

The cartel Wycombe belonged to was small and not as powerful as others, but they had plans that went far beyond carving out a slice of Purgatory to boss around. They were not going to let themselves be chained to the rigid thinking of the fallen Entity that had once led them either. Purgatory was rife with Eve’s mongrels. Instead of letting that be an irritant, let it be useful. 

Now their planning was going to pay off. The group of vampires they had contacted on Earth was baiting the prey into the trap. 

“Go,” Wycombe advised his co-conspirators.

The five other Leviathans de-coalesced into their primordial forms and shot themselves off into the sky, aiming for their positions; the key points to a pentagram over five miles wide built on Purgatory’s ley lines. 

That’d been one thing that the old one had ragged Wycombe about. “Seven of you? There’s only seven?! Five to activate the trap and break the Veil- that only leaves two of you at the drop site. This plan of yours has a certain amount of ingenuity, but two of you are not enough to carry it off.”

The old one had acted like this was suicide. The old one was a fool, for all he’d been one of the Entity’s most trusted aides at one time. Wycombe shared a look with Klein (also the name of a consumed human, of course). He and Wycombe were the two strongest of their group. The old one was as calcified as their one-time leader if he didn’t think that was enough.

Klein was watching through the Eye of Eve, the hand-sized artifact that had made this plan possible. It had allowed them to contact Eve’s bastard children on Earth to organize the plan. The vampires had spied on their targets and set the trap.

What the old one had had to say about _that_ had scorched the dead air of Purgatory, even as Wycombe had tried to explain that the curs were mere cannon fodder.

“Vampires?! You’re a fool for relying on such garbage!” the old one had said, gnashing his impressive set of teeth at the very thought. Wycombe had been trying to recruit the old one, but he knew that would be a stumbling block. The old one - who had gone by the name Edgar back on Earth - seemed to have a marked aversion to mutts in general and vampires in particular. In the end, he’d declined to participate.

Which meant that when Wycombe opened the way back to Earth, he and his friends and their allies would _feast_ , and the old one could sit in Purgatory and liquefy for all Wycombe cared.

The sacrament candles at the corners of the massive summoning construct crackled and exploded into flame.

“They’re in the trap,” said Klein redundantly, putting the Eye aside.

Go time.

The sky made a sound like silk getting slit open by a knife and two figures tumbled out. One fell into a crouch, the other one more of a shoulder roll/belly flop. There was also a lot of dust floating around; the remains of the vampires whose sacrifice had opened the way (Wycombe had not been exactly forthright about the condition in which his assistants would arrive in Purgatory to be ‘rewarded’ for their efforts.)

“Son of a-...bitch!” said the prone man after a hollow retching gasp. The angel went to help him to his feet.

One of the god-servants leaped at the angel, ululating like a crazed thing. A suicide run. It died on the Being’s blade, but its clawed hand whipped out and struck the angel in the chest with the prepared scroll. The paper instantly burst into blue flame and disappeared in a puff of ash.

The angel staggered, went limp and fell straight over backwards. 

“Cas!” gasped the human, reaching for him, then some instinct made the man flinch away and cover his eyes as the angel started to glow.

The spell ripped the angel right out of its vessel - looked painful, actually. Good, thought Wycombe. He’d enjoyed being on Earth and had not appreciated these two _clowns_ stopping the long-awaited reclaiming of the Leviathan’s birthright and buffet. Wycombe was mainly in this for ambition and hunger, but revenge was a dandy little appetizer.

“The Seraph is strong,” Edgar had muttered reluctantly as he’d mulled over the cartel’s plan. “Strong enough to contain all the souls of Purgatory and _us_ for considerably longer than should have been possible. Do not underestimate him.” But there the famous Castiel was, haplessly buzzing around like a firefly - a really large luminous multidimensional firefly, granted, but just about as frightening to a Leviathan.

And now Wycombe and Klein, side by side, reached out with their combined powers and _grabbed_.

The celestial Being flickered. Black lines appeared around its brightness like a net, wrestling it down to the ground by inches. Below waited a heavy metal construct, like a cage which had dallied with a combine harvester; it gleamed fitfully in the light of the struggling Being getting pulled towards it. Leviathans had always been stronger than angels, their very auras able to smother the light of their Maker within the celestials. It was why God had taken care to keep his little winged darlings away from his fist creations.

A body hurtled past Wycombe, nearly sweeping him off his feet. The werewolf. With a stab mark in its chest that wasn’t healing. From a silver blade? Oh right, the other one.

...That’d been the last thing Edgar had said. “Look, do what you want, but I’ll give you one final piece of advice, gratis. Catch your angel and hold him if you can, but do not, under any circumstances, bring one of those walking talking catastrophes with him. Trust me on that. Castiel by himself will be a handful, but you can manage him. Leave the Winchesters out of the equation or you’re screwed.”

But Edgar was biased by his untimely end on Earth. Wycombe wasn’t worried. He could cope with whatever the human tried - and since revenge was on the menu, he wouldn’t mind adding Winchester’s corpse as desert. It wasn’t as if they had a choice anyway. Their spies had watched Castiel for months now and the chances of detaching him from his human pets and getting him alone seemed nonexistent. So what if the Winchester annoyance had come through too? What was the worst that could happen?

“Cas! Fight it!” the human shouted, attention split between the monsters circling him, and the trail of struggling light in the sky.

“He can’t,” one of the vampires laughed - they did enjoy playing with their food. So puerile. “Even inside a vessel, he’d be hard pressed against two Leviathans, but outside, here in Purgatory, he’s nothing but a glowstick. And you’re nothing but a-” Wycombe never learned what the vampire thought the human compared to, as it turned out the hunter had come through with his machete.

The hunter dodged a few claws and fangs, turned to the light in the sky-

\- and did something that Wycombe had not actually anticipated.

“Castiel! I accept!”

Klein tensed, but was too busy struggling with the angel to go and murder a mortal. “Stop the human!” he ordered. “Jump on him, you- you- useless lumps of meat!”

“No!” Wycombe shouted. “Stand back!”

“What?!” Klein hissed. “We’re barely holding him! If he gets in a vessel, we lose the home-ground advantage!” Purgatory was no pleasure cruise for unprotected celestials, it was sapping the angel’s strength. 

“No, it’s fine!” Wycombe shot back, not that either he or Klein had much say in the matter, because their troops tried to interfere and were getting hammered back by the hunter. In the meantime, the Seraph had produced one heroic wrenching burst of light and wiggled out of their hold for a few seconds, flowing down towards the human.

Klein growled in concern, but not Wycombe. He laughed out loud - jaws gaping much wider than the original Wycombe had anatomically been capable of - as the light melted into the man. Because this- this was just perfect!

In the center of the clearing, the human staggered and started to shake.

“Why is this a good thing?” Klein snapped. “I wanted to eat the Winchester!”

“You can scrape him off the scenery in a minute. Think! You know what he is to the angel.”

Klein blinked in sudden understanding.

The whole point of the exercise was to harness the Seraph’s powers, and it was going to be a long arduous process to break him to their will, no doubt. But five minutes into Purgatory and the panicking angel had already murdered the human bed-toy it was so attached to. That was going to start the breaking process off with a roaring start. Nothing like grief and guilt to get into a creature’s head (or so Wycombe theorized, though Leviathans being free of either, he was working on assumption.)

Wycombe and Klein waited with bated breath.

The human shook his head, straightened up and failed to explode into meaty chunks.

“How disappointing,” Wycombe said. Only one human in ten million could survive possession by a Seraph, what were the odds this would be one of them?

“No, this works too. We can eat bits off Winchester while the angel is inside him,” Klein pointed out.

“Oh, you’re quite right. Come on, mutts. Subdue him!”

There were only four vampires and the skin-shedding thing left at this point - when had Winchester chewed through all the expendables? The remaining troops shared a look of some reluctance.

“Go! Klein and I are subduing him, he won’t be able to use his full celestial powers while in our presence - not in this borrowed vessel. It’s not meant for him, it will weaken him.”

Encouraged, the foot soldiers leaped at the figure standing there looking down at his empty hands. And then-

And then things happened very fast.

The angel nodded fractionally.

His blade materialized in his hand.

A flash of light blanketed the clearing, instantly turning the vampires to dust and setting the skin-thing on fire. 

Both Leviathans staggered and blinked-

The clearing was now empty.

“Where- how did he-“

There was a dull thud at his side.

Wycombe flinched as something rolled away- Klein’s head. He spun around-

The angel was behind him.

Swish-

Wycombe’s world tilted on its axis and then rushed up to smack him.

His head rolled in mulch, shock narrowing his vision and robbing him of mobility.

“You miscalculated.”

The voice, hard and measured, seemed to be coming from the end of a long tunnel.

“Dean is an accomplished soldier, and could have contained Michael with ease. Weakened? No. Not at all.”

In Wycombe’s skewed vision, something huge came down right next to his nose- a boot. The angel had stepped over his head and was making his bow-legged way towards the discarded vessel, crunching through the dead bracken and detouring around the occasional corpse. 

Wycombe gaped. His primordial being was in shock at the sudden separation, his thoughts in chaos (and a few words of Edgar’s advice ringing through his headpiece)

In his narrowing vision, the angel suddenly staggered. The blade slipped from his slackening grip and he brought a shaking hand up to his head. The angel shook himself, bent to pick up the blade, took one more step then sank to his knees.

 

\---

 

Dean’s knees hit the sod and he gasped. 

“Whoa!”

His eyes focused - on his worst fucking nightmare.

“CAS!”

*I’m here, Dean.*

“Huh?!” Dean clutched his head - nearly clocking himself with the angel blade in one fist - because he’d very clearly heard his lover’s voice coming from right _inside_ his-“C-Cas?” 

Memories were doing the mambo in his already busy noggin. Vampires pulling a runner in some abandoned farm in Missouri, making a stand in a barn, a weird flash as Dean and Cas stepped onto a floor marked with symbols - then a bunch of mooks jumping them, Cas falling over, a bright light- oh right. 

Dean’s adrenal gland continued to go off like a five star fire alarm until he forced himself to look at something other than Cas’s body lying spreadeagled on the ground, eyes open and glassy and very dead.

*I’m not dead.* The voice was a gentle touch in his mind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dean muttered, nerves still jangling.

*You saved my life. Thank you.*

“What, I was supposed to let you become Leviathan chow?”

*You let me in.* The inner voice was hushed as if in amazement. 

“Oh please. You had your cock up my ass less than twenty four hours ago, I wasn’t going to be stuffy about this.”

*...Of course not.* (I suppose I must let him pretend it’s the same thing though he has to know I’m familiar with his pattern of deflecting emotions with sarcasm and sexual innuendo)

“Say what now?”

*What?*

“What did you-” He’d heard Cas’s voice, and then at much the same time and _beneath_ it in some way he’d heard other words perfectly clearly, with a wash of- of irritated affection or something. “Deflect? I don’t deflect.”

*You-...* (he heard that? oh there’s a limit to the separation I can maintain in this state) There was a feeling of vague alarm followed by resignation.

“What?”

*Since you are conscious, there is some bleed off between our thoughts.*

(fuck) “Um, does it go both ways?” (don’t think of anything embarrassing like that time I took a shower right after he did in that motel in El Paso and I picked up the towel he)

*Dean.*

“Huh?”

*It goes both ways.*

“...Fucking awesome.” (El Paso was before we hooked up if he’d been reading my mind back then it’d have been Smite o’clock)

*Should I-* (no I can’t offer to leave his vessel - if I’m unprotected in Purgatory I’ll be weakened and I won’t be able to protect him)

“Whoa, yeah, don’t even think that,” Dean snapped. His heart was still beating a mile a minute when he remembered Cas falling to the ground, his light being ripped out, snared by Levis.

*...I’m sorry. This will be inconvenient. But I don’t see a way around it.* (I have to be alive to defend Dean- convenience is secondary)

Dean got to his feet, absently kicked a dead mook in the throat, then looked around. Fucking Purgatory again. Great. 

“Yeah, fuck convenience, ‘s got to be done. C’mon, you know I’d take a bullet for you, Cas-” (metaphorically speaking - in real life back on Earth I’d use him as a human shield because bulletproof angel) “You know what I mean. So, you know...do what you gotta do.”

There was an inquisitive feeling at the back of his mind. Dean squinted to make sure his head hadn’t tipped to the side, but no, still straight and set at its usual stubborn jut.

“I mean, you don’t have to baby me. You don’t have to let me drive if you don’t want to.” (plus we might avoid over-sharing some really embarrassing shit like all those colorful terms I came up for him and the other holy dicks before he Fell oh crap I’m doing it again)

*Ah, you think I am choosing to leave you conscious.*

“You’re not?”

*No.*

“Then why didn’t you keep your hand on the wheel?”

*You were casting me out.*

“What? No I wasn’t! Why- I invited you in!” 

*Consciously, you are letting me stay. But when I took over, your subconscious mind started fighting me tooth and nail.*

“...That makes a difference?”

*You’re a very strong-willed individual.* Cas sounded oddly pleased. *You and Sam both. Sam wrestled Lucifer to a standstill. You are an exceptional man. Your strength of mind-*

“Are you getting turned on by this?” Dean asked, eyebrows rising a little at some of the emotions percolating through.

*What? Dean, no-* (yes) *...this is irritating.* 

“That’s one word for it.” Dean rolled his shoulders. He felt sore and stiff.

*My point stands. If I take over, your unconscious mind will fight me.*

“Didn’t think that’d make a difference to an angel.”

*It does.* (since I’m not an immoral archangel who’d delete half of Dean’s personality to- no I mustn’t think of that it will bring back bad memories of the apocalypse oh it I think he can hear me)

“I can hear you.”

There was an internal sigh. Dean echoed it and looked around.

The Leviathan’s head a few feet away was conspicuously still.

“I could hear you crawling back to your body over the mulch,” Dean informed it. 

The eyes flickered open and rolled up to glare at him.

Dean picked both heads up by the hair and tossed them into a nearby stream. It was flowing fast over a bunch of sharp rocks, the kind of thrill ride the bastards deserved. That’d keep them busy for awhile.

“Right. Now, time for a plan. We are getting out of here. We. As in you plus me. The both of us. Together. At the same time-“

*I _understand_ , Dean.* 

“You better.” (not having him throw me through the bloody rip again)

*I won’t try to get you out without me, whatever the risk. I know how that would end.* 

“Badly all around, and you’d sleep on the couch for the next eon. How about your, um, vessel.” Dean gestured at the corpse that he still couldn’t help thinking of as ‘Cas’. 

There was a muddy feeling of doubt in his mind. *Can we go have a look at it?*

Dean obliged because he was a practical man stuck in Purgatory, this was no time to be squeamish. He was just thankful the eyes weren’t burned out or that Cas hadn’t pulled a chestburster when he got evicted. At Castiel’s prompting he undid the tie and shirt. Beneath the surface of his cold focus a few random thoughts whimpered, but he ignored them and so did Cas as they both examined the weird mark that had somehow gotten tattooed with purple ink over Cas’s heart. 

*Hm. This is nothing I am familiar with. Can you lay your hand on it?*

Dean obeyed, putting aside with icy professionalism the sensation of Cas’s motionless chest beneath his palm and the fact that the body was already starting to cool. 

“Can you fix it?”

*No.* (not here)

“Not here? So it is fixable?”

*I don’t think so.* (purgatory saps too much of my strength)

“So back home, you’d be able to mojo this thing off?”

*I can’t be sure.* (yes with some assistance)

“Why are you being coy about this?” Cas seemed to be thinking ‘no’ out loud and ‘yes maybe’ in his, er, underthoughts, to put a label on them.

*Dean, we would have to take my vessel with us. You would have to carry it.*

“So? Dude, we are not leaving your bod behind if there’s even the slightest chance you can ride it again.”

*We are in Purgatory. This is a very difficult place to survive in.*

“Thanks for the newsflash, Anderson Cooper. But we are not abandoning your vessel, and that’s final. I’m not saying this because of our sex life.” (okay maybe a little bit but only a little). “What happens if we leave it here? Incorporeal angels are in danger on Earth too - and you can’t help us the same way, not without risk to us or you. And the other option? Doing to some other poor sap what happened to Jimmy? Could either of us walk up to some human and talk them into this, knowing what’s almost certain to happen sooner or later?”

*No.* (not unless Dean’s life was in danger) 

“Hey! Don’t say that like it’s okay to put my life before someone else’s!” (especially not for _me_ after all the crap I’ve done)

Cas demurred - but a mulish snap echoed from the back of Dean’s noggin with (I do not do it lightly but I do it anyway whether he blindly denies his own worth or not)

...Dean had a flash of intuition, something he’d always known without fully acknowledging. First, that Cas did put his and Sam’s existence above other humans, for both personal and also greater reasons, and that the angel might not like the necessities this implied but he was not going to apologize for it. Second, that the two of them had, like anybody else in a relationship, evolved conversational tools that avoided spinning wheels in useless dispute when they didn’t have the time for it, and those tools had been thrown out the window now that they were in full-on share mode. Which meant that they could spend the next part of a year looping around the same sterile arguments if they paid too much attention to each other’s underthoughts all the time. 

Cas was walking the same mental route as Dean and reaching the same conclusion. 

*You’re right, this is an argument for another day. As for the vessel, it is your decision. You are, as you say, in the driver’s seat.* (I certainly do not _want_ to leave my vessel behind I am attached to it now)

“It’s the right thing to do. Not easy for an angel to find a vessel that fits.” (the only obvious candidate is Claire Novak- crap I didn’t even want to _think_ about that) “This bod comes guilt-free now, you won’t be a hijacker with some poor shmo in tow. With the kind of work we do, the moral gray choices we have to make every damn month, it’d make having someone normal along for the ride all kind of dangerous and uncomfortable.” (even more so in the sack) “Not that this is about our sex life at all.” (well okay it is but not only) 

*I don’t want to lose this part of us either, Dean.* 

Dean made an interrogative noise, still crouched by the vessel. 

*You only have a few scant decades left in this body,* said Cas with all the tact of a .45 caliber - and that wasn’t even the underthoughts which were dwelling on the excessive and needless risks Dean sometimes took with said body. *And for every moment of that brief time, I want to know you and be with you, as the mortal man I fell in love with as well as the soul I love.*

“Right. What you said,” muttered Dean, looking around for any Purgatory critter that might have overheard that somehow and need killing. 

*Very well, we will take the vessel with us. I cannot exert any power on that mark, and it is carved deep into the body’s residual aura so we cannot cut it out. But if we can find another way to remove it, then fixing the damage will be easy. However, if you need to make a choice-*

“Not throwing myself on a grenade for an empty peanut shell. Gotcha.”

Dean got up and quickly assessed the rest of the shit-fest. The Chompers had recruited patsies again, vampires and such. Dean went to retrieve his silver blade from where he’d dropped it. Since they’d been hunting vamps, it was the small silver-plated flick blade he always had on him for emergencies, not his serious one, and of course he’d dropped his duffel outside the barn before charging in, dammit. He’d even lost his gun when the ground had opened up beneath them. He had his machete, and he had the angel blade which could hurt and slow most things. Still, he was just one guy, and if he got jumped by a whole pile of vamps again...Dean looked around thoughtfully. The clearing was surrounded by those god-awful bramble bushes that seemed to constitute half the plant life of Purgatory, because here even the vegetables were out to get you. Dean collected a dozen of the sharp thorns, punched them through a bandanna he ransacked off a vamp, then coughed. 

“Uh, Cas? Do you mind?”

*Hm? Oh, good idea. Go ahead.*

“Sorry. You’re the only dead man around.” 

*And we both want to keep it that way. Help yourself.*

Dean, like an idiot, still winced when piercing Cas’s flesh with the thorns while Cas watched over his metaphysical shoulder with supreme unconcern and even advised him to aim for an artery if he wanted a better flow now that circulation had stopped.

With a set of make-do spiky brass knuckles coated with dead man’s blood on his left hand, the machete in his right, the silver knife in his pocket and the angel blade in his jacket’s hidden scabbard, Dean felt a little less naked. He hoisted Cas up into a fireman carry, making sure his right arm was free for swinging. Still, this was not optimal. Cas wasn’t a lightweight - that is, when he wasn’t in residence, his body wasn’t- the Cas in his head was weightless of course but- Dean had never once and never would regret his choice of hooking up with an angel, but it did leave his vocabulary and inner monologue swimming in confusion at times. 

*Not being in control, I won’t be able to do much to aid you, I’m afraid,* Cas sighed. *Other than heal your injuries. I can help with your stamina too.* 

“Yeah, my life is crazy.”

*Hm?*

“Never mind. Go juice, band-aids, whatever you can spare to keep me going with my batteries on full. I expect to get dogpiled by the locals at regular intervals.”

*Where are we going?*

“Away from this mousetrap for starters, more Chompers might show up. Let’s put some clicks between us and Headless here, also get clear of these trees and hit higher ground. Then we’ll figure out an itinerary.”

He took off at a quick walk, eyes on their surroundings. The massacre behind them disappeared between trees, but the forest was still as dense as before. He headed off in the direction the ground sloped up. 

Every few minutes he’d have to shrug and settle Cas more firmly on his left shoulder. He’d threaded his hand through the trench coat’s sleeve loop to start with, but that just ended up jiggling the sleeve half off of the arm. Dean resettled everything, then he gripped the wrist - reminded him of what they’d been doing last night, the sudden vivid memory compounded by that faint scent of the body over his shoulder. (fuck it don’t think of last night or holding down his wrists while we - god damn _it_ )

A bemused thought trickled through the back of his brain, (why is he so disturbed that I’m overhearing this when I was there too and we do that all the time? what he was thinking of before was rather new though I never knew Dean had this obsession with penetrative sex toys)

“Oy! Stay out of it!” Dean yelped, trying to put a lid on his thoughts- which just erupted right on cue. 

*I apologize, I know this is difficult.*

“You think?!”

*I still don’t understand why you are self-conscious about these thoughts. We’ve been lovers for months now, and we’ve been through a lot together, I don’t see what there is still to uncover that might embarrass you.* 

(then he doesn’t have a lot of imagination- fuck and I got too much.) Dammit, he wasn’t normally this much of a horn-dog, he was always 100% focused while on the job- but he wasn’t in a fight right now, and trying _not_ to think of anything embarrassing was a surefire way to get the mind to zero in on same.

“Don’t angels have any notion of privacy?” Dean asked loudly, as if this could drown out the porn movie mash-up currently running through his mind. 

*No. Our physiology and conditioning make us open books to our Brethren. We can deceive each other as an act of will, but since everything else is out in the open, we do not have these boundaries that you have, this loose border between open thought, inner thought and hidden thought. Neither do I have these kind of sexual fantasies.* (sometimes I wish I did). *I’m not judging you.* (finding this rather fascinating actually) *Maybe that is why I do not understand.*

“Understand?”

*Why you get so embarrassed by some parts of sex and not others.*

“Whu- I mean- I don’t know-” (I’m no tight-assed hypocrite but there’s limits such as the really kinky stuff like clamps and) “Shh!” The way his boots were stomping through dried leaves tilted the body off his shoulders and he had to stop to readjust.

*It’s fine, Dean, I don’t mind, pay no attention.* (interesting but that one would be uncomfortable for him and I don’t think that last one was physically possible)

“Cas! Don’t _look!_ ” Dean hissed.

*I can’t help it,* was the rejoinder, though it came tinged with a faint trace of dishonesty. Cas couldn’t help it exactly...but he was like a huge Sam lumbering around in a room full of old diaries, photo albums and kinky knicknacks, and every time he knocked into something accidentally, he couldn’t help but see what it was as he put it back.

“This is a- a-“ (invasion of- I’m not a prude but still) “It’s not fair! I’m not getting anything like this from you!”

*I do not, as you say, have your imagination.* (and I do have better mental discipline)

Dean made a low growling sound in his throat- and stiffened, senses suddenly on alert.

Two figures had come up from a dip in the forest and were walking swiftly to cut him off. A third was moving behind him. Wraiths. One of them had his wrist spike out already and was licking it in a way that he thought must be intimidating.

“Ooh, little human-“

“Thank _god_ for you guys, I was about to go all domestic dispute inside my own melon,” Dean said, heaving Cas’s body off his shoulders and swinging his machete at the bozo trying to jump him from behind.

The intermission didn’t last long - one decapitation and two silver-bladed stabs with a minimum of dodging and weaving thrown in. Dean straightened, looked up at the unchanging sky, at the forest around them, at Cas’s body which had gotten sprayed by an unfortunate arterial spurt. 

“This isn’t working too well. We got wood, we got these stupid vines all over the place- I’m going to build a travois. With a harness I can step away from immediately if I need to.”

*...If the vessel is putting your life at risk-*

“We are not leaving it behind.” (this angel being the cuddly one)

*We’re the same person, Dean,* Cas pointed out, while a nettled (Dean likes that vessel a bit too much at times) echoed in the background.

“Hey, I know that-“ (though I’ve wondered if we’d have been more than friends if he’d been in a vessel that wasn’t anywhere as hot) “Ack!”

(oh really)

“Oh but-“ (shit that’s going to hurt his feelings his vessel isn’t _him_ )

*You are a physical being, it’s normal part of you identifies me with my vessel* said Cas, sounding reasonable, while his underthoughts muttered peevishly about being both reduced and objectified. 

“Hey now that’s unfair-” (great I’m good enough at putting my foot in it when I talk - now I can’t even _think_? fuck it’s not easy being in love with somebody wearing his body like a sock puppet) 

*I know this is not easy, Dean,* said Cas a bit crisply while in the background Dean heard (it’s not always easy for me either! a mortal is my entire world now but he’s grouchy, stubborn - I cannot connect with him like I would my Brethren)

(Oh thanks I needed a dollop of guilt on top of my shit pie a la mode) “I offered to share once with you- mind-stuff - and you said No!”

*Because it was my choice back then. I knew you were only suggesting it to shore up my own deficiencies.* (but now we’re in a position where I don’t have a choice and I can justify it) *I am trying not to invade your privacy-* (and yet I can’t seem to stop) *I know how difficult this is for you.* (-unique occasion to ask him- wait no - but if I could - a key to understanding more of what we share)

There was a flutter of uncertainty from Cas’s presence in Dean’s noggin; apparently Mr ‘I have better mental discipline’ was as startled as Dean that his underthoughts were trying to get up into Dean’s grill like that. 

Cas was silent. Wrestling with temptation presumably - and losing since a little underthought curled out like a trail of smoke beneath a suspiciously hot door. (-I’ve always wanted to know when he noticed his sexual interest in me because I cannot fathom that moment when something changed in our bond)

Dean nearly took his hand off with the machete as it swung towards a vine he was holding. “Hey! You are not allowed to-“ (during the apocalypse when he beat me up for surrendering to Michael) ”-poke around for- Dude!!”

*What?? When I hurt you?!*

“Fuck it all!”

*Shhh, Dean, don’t yell, you’ll attract unwanted attention.*

“It’s your fault for digging!”

*I’m not digging.* (if he wasn’t so bad at communicating his emotions maybe I wouldn’t be rummaging now) *I-...not entirely deliberately?*

“You bastard, Cas.” 

*I apologize, Dean.* Or at least those were the words that crossed Dean’s mind briefly but at the very same time there was a nearly audible _snap_ of Cas giving in to his desire to understand. *But why would _that_ episode be the moment that you realized you felt sexual attraction for me?* (he likes a bit of aggression during intercourse but surely not that much)

“That’s got nothing to do with it!” Dean yelped, then put his hand on his mouth and glared around. 

He tried to focus, corral his thoughts- that just made it worst, his underthoughts bursting out like a geyser and spraying in every direction.

(he was beating me up at the very thought I was going to spread ‘em for Michael and he wonders?! Sam and Bobby were angry and disappointed I was giving up but Cas was _furious_ and _hurt_ and he gave me this _look_ that was hotter than fucking magma and I said something flip about getting laid - then after I turned Michael down and I was no longer suicidal and Cas had practically killed himself to help me reach Adam, I kept having weird thoughts of that alleyway again and I’d remember him punching me around and I suddenly thought fuck yeah, if the positions were reversed and he had been the one about to give it up to another angel that’d be the reason _I’d_ be slamming him into a wall and yelling at him and then the scene in my mind would play out again but this time Cas would grab me and say that he’d _make_ me say no and then a fucking porn soundtrack would start up and-) “ _Fucking hell!_ A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J-“

*That won’t help,* Cas pointed out bemusedly, his focus on the revelations and not the alphabet. *That is...unexpected. I had not thought you’d find sexual interest in the moment you gave up on yourself and chose to doom half the planet to oblivion.* (trying not to sound judgmental because I did say I would not be)

“It was _afterwards!_ ” Dean snarled, gripping the machete so tight his fist hurt. “Once I’d said no and we were fighting horsemen, that’s when I remembered-” (and started having sex dreams about him like whoa) ’-look, it’s not- It- it’s just a _thing-_ Ugh.”

*A thing.* (one of those human things that are nonsensical and contradictory and make him needlessly defensive)

“That’s _it!_ Your turn, sunshine!” Dean hurled down the nearly completed travois and sat on a dead wraith with his arms crossed and a pugnacious look directed inwards.

*For what?*

“When did you know you had the hots for me?” Dean asked with the slow deliberation of a man flicking a match into a powder keg.

*You know when, you’re the reason for any sexuality I might be said to possess.* (as long as he doesn’t ask me)

“Huh? Ah? Ask you what?” Dean leaned forward as if he could physically ferret out whatever thought was trying to skirt away. 

*Dean-* (no no no)

“Uncomfortable, hm?” Cas was indeed better at the mental stuff, there wasn’t the spontaneous outburst Dean had suffered, but Dean was very persistent, he could feel the answer squirming just out of reach and he was on its tracks like the hunter he was.

*You did not like it when I did that to you!* 

“I’ll quote you right back: And yet I can’t seem to stop. Spill!”

(-after - _so alone_ \- with Lisa-) *Dean!*

“What? With Lisa? Jesus, don’t tell me you were busy being a celestial voyeur.”

*No, of course not.* (that was the last thing I wanted to see) *Dean!*

Dean straightened abruptly. “Say what?”

There was a roil of uncertain and agitated feelings, leeching slowly into resignation, along with a flutter of thought that after his own subconscious behavior earlier, Cas had little justification in playing coy now.

*It was just...the moment I realized...*

“What, that you wanted my ass?” (no he wasn’t into the physical stuff back then)

*...I told you before that I loved you almost from the moment we met.*

(jeez this is going to be embarrassing.)

*What? Why?* ( _that_ part I’m not ashamed of)

“Huh?”

*...There’s a difference. The love I felt at the start was natural. It was the love of a brother. You’d been through so much in life and in Hell, but you still kept that light deep inside, that strength. It was more than being a Righteous Man. It was that inner certainty of right or wrong. That fierce care for others that did not need orders or rules. Loving you was easy and-* (clean) *...easy to start with.*

“Yeah?”

*But there was something else there. I don’t know when it started. But in retrospect-* (now that we’re together and I can see how complicated and demanding romantic love can be) *In retrospect I see that that was when something changed.* (but I was too naive and inexperienced to realize it) *I _was_ happy that you were with Lisa. The way Sam would have been happy for you. I told myself that was why I did not ask for your help when I had problems. But the truth was that seeing you with Lisa hurt.* (made me angry) *I...that. Hurt. And anger.*

Dean stared blindly at a rock. “You were jealous...?”

Confusion. *I don’t think so. I did not resent Lisa. I was glad you had found solace.* (I truly was glad but it still hurt in a part of me that shouldn’t even exist) *My situation was difficult, I was under pressure by Rafael.* (I didn’t know what to do - Dean had taught me free will and I _needed him_ \- no other angel understood they wouldn’t listen to me not the way he would but he was happy and I couldn’t destroy that so I denied that I missed him confused and _so alone_ and in a small part of me deep inside I didn’t resent her I resented _him_ ) *-damn it-...I’m sorry, Dean.*

There was a deep feeling of shame permeating the back of Dean’s skull. Which was funny because really, in human terms what Cas had just described made a hell of a lot of sense and was pretty understandable and forgivable. 

*How can you say that?* Cas snapped, latching onto the feelings. *Look what happened.*

“You couldn’t know that would be the outcome. Or are you gonna blame me for not speaking up before splitting? ‘Cause saying I had the hots for you then might have also avoided the Eve sleigh ride right from the start.”

*No, that would be-*

“Stupid, right? Hey, you want blame, I’ll blame ya for not listening to us later on - though I also understand the ‘I’m in so I might as well be in all the way’ mentality too.” (been there done that and went to hell for it). “But that stuff at the start? Nah. Seeing the guy they’re crushing on end up with a hot yoga instructor would make most people do something stupid, it just usually involves liquor, not Purgatory. It’s just your bad luck-“ (and judgment) ”-that got-” (and stubbornness, can’t forget the stubbornness) ”-that got you latching onto Crowley when you were at a low point in your life and desperate for solutions to another incoming Apocalypse. I know what that’s like.” Dean got to his feet to finish the travois. 

Trying to deny that he was blushing. Because there was such a wave of...of admiration, of thankfulness for what Cas saw as understanding and forgiveness - Jesus Christ. 

“This is like getting physically stuck in an elevator with Samantha in full-on sharing mode. While roofied,” he grumbled.

An internal sigh. *I didn’t need this incident to know this about you, Dean.*

“Know what?”

*That you are uncomfortable with praise or any hint that there could be something truly exceptional about you.* (he’s doing it again right now)

“I...” Dean tightened the last vine viciously. “Yeah. I know. This is something I am actually aware of and trying to, you know, work on.” (self esteem and daddy issues up the wazoo, what a great catch I am)

*Yes you are.* The sunshine inside made Dean’s face leap into a smile completely involuntarily. *You forget that I know you: I know your soul, I’ve trespassed on your thoughts and dreams on occasion, and I know you through all your words and actions. I know this demon you fight. It may not believe you are worthy of love and redemption, but I will spend whatever time we have together persuading you otherwise.* (seeing how stubborn he is it will probably take every day of my immortal life to do so - but if we can spend that time together then I won’t mind)

Dean snorted and scrubbed his face with his hand, getting dirt over it. Then he manhandled Cas’s body onto the travois and strapped it on. Trying to deny - uselessly in the present circumstances - that he was just a little glad of this run-in with Underthought Cas after all. Though Cas had his foibles - being blunt to the point of eviscerating was one of them - overall he still considered himself the Winchester guardian angel, placing their concerns above his own as a matter of course, and aiming to be the supportive rational one in his and Dean’s relationship. Running into Inner Cas had reminded Dean that his angel could still be as quarrelsome, cynical and petulant as the next Winchester, and though he tried to hide them, good soldier that he was, Cas also had his needs and vulnerabilities. Dean already knew this on some level, sure, but that wasn’t the same as having Cas’s subconscious grab him by the metaphorical lapels and shake him and shout “You’re my lover, my best friend and my family so tell me what’s going on in that dense head of yours because I really want to know!”

*You know, some of those fantasies of yours from earlier are perfectly feasible if we acquire some marital aids-*

(transparent attempt to change the subject - fail. even more transparent attempt to get me back on track of my sexual fantasies - double fail) “Quit it, Cas. Humans have all sorta crap in their head, but that don’t mean I’m not a vanilla ice-cream kinda guy in the sack for the most part. Stop ferreting.” But Dean’s objections had lost their heat. Whatever Cas found down there, he wasn’t going to run away screaming.

*Never.*

Right. 

Dean started tugging the travois off in the direction of a distant summit. He sort of remembered the geography around the breach. If he got some height, he’d be able to hopefully situate it. Hopefully. Cas and he shared a few worried thoughts.

“Next time we get jumped, remind me to interrogate the last man standing before I deep six him. Maybe get some hints.”

*Good idea.*

It might have been better if Dean’s thoughts stayed on hidden - and currently not-so-hidden - sexual fantasies, however embarrassing that would be. But the reality of the situation was starting to leech in, and there was a question hanging over him, a deeper darker one than the others. One that had haunted him before. It was there in his head. Cas could sense it but was circling it warily, wondering if they could ignore it. 

Dean decided to face it head on rather than let it jerk out in dribs and drabs through his underthoughts. 

“Cas, what would have happened if the Chompers back there had killed you?”

*I am not sure that was their aim, it seems a roundabout way of proceeding. The apparatus they were dragging me towards looked gruesome, but had what appeared to be containment sigils wrought into the bars.*

“I am not sure that caught by Levis is better than dead.”

*Dead is preferable. As for your initial question,* (since I know he won’t let it go now) *I told you before, we do not know where angels go when they die.*

(that’s what he said when Sam asked him that one time but I’d wondered if he was really telling the truth)

*I don’t lie to you anymore, Dean,* was the ruffled answer to that underthought - even though Dean had thought they’d evolved a gentleman’s agreement not to call each other on those anymore.

“Don’t that drive you guys crazy?”

*The greatest majority of humans live with this ignorance.*

“And it drives _them_ crazy. Besides, you guys are behind the curtain, you’d think you’d know.”

*Trust me,* Cas said dryly, *it drives us crazy too, we’re just to dignified to admit it.* (and by dignified I mean both stuck up and indoctrinated - and I don’t mind him hearing that as I’m sure he’ll agree)

“Hah. Knew it.”

*The unspoken rule in Heaven is that we don’t talk about it and don’t question. Which did not stop a good score of angels from asking me about it discreetly, since as far as we know, I am the only one to ever come back. None of them were satisfied with ‘I don’t remember anything’.*

“You should tell them there were harps and a bright light at the end of a tunnel, just to mess with their heads.”

*That would be a cruel fabrication.* (no really I shouldn’t even if I do rather want to now)

Dean chuckled. 

“How about God? He never say?”

*He talked to Joshua about it once. Our Father said it should remain a mystery to us.* (hedged and evaded same as usual)

“Great.”

*All He said is that we go to a place where we are at peace.*

(that sounds awesome) Dean sub-thought bleakly. 

*Which is probably why I came back each time. I won’t be at peace without you, Dean, you or Sam.* (I will always come back)

(he’s just saying that to make me feel better - he can’t know that for sure)

(yes I can)

That brought Dean to the next inevitable pit-stop in the road of life.

“What happens when I die? Or Sam?”

*I cannot say. But seeing how many times you saved your planet at great personal cost-*

“Uh-uh, that might have made me feel better once upon a time, but I’m going to have to remind you that the games are rigged. Remember Bobby?”

*Yes. I remember. It is possible a sordid scheme could drag your souls to hell.*

“Wow, tell it like it is, Cas.”

*I will. It is a fact that you might end up in the Pit again. And it is a fact that I will not rest until you are both where you belong. Whoever I have to convince, bribe or threaten, I will raise armies, I will invade Hell, I will set it to the torch and put its inhabitants to the sword until I get you out again.*

“I know you will,” Dean said softly, 

*I suspect I’ll meet you halfway to the exit. You know a lot more than you did back then. I pity the demons who try to hold you now.*

“Hah.”

*But I will be there to help.* (we promised)

(yeah we did) 

Dean coughed loudly and cut off an innocent tree branch with his machete - it was a Purgatory tree, it probably deserved it anyway. Then he reassembled his tough SOB exterior, because this place ate soft tender things alive.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said after awhile. “Anything is better than the Pit. Pretty much. But Heaven is the discount consolation prize as far as I’m concerned. With my history, how well will I do up there?”

*I know you and Naomi don’t like each other.*

“You’re the angel of Thursdays and Understatements, aren’t you.”

*But she has a strong ethos in these matters - when she doesn’t feel the need to subvert it for a greater cause. Besides, as far as I am concerned the same thing applies to her as it would to the Pit if she decides to mistreat you,* Castiel said with an edge. *And she knows that. Naomi is smart. I still have friends in the Host, they keep me informed. Some in the upper echelons have asked Naomi why she puts up with our presence.* (as we are nothing more than a rogue angel and two pathetic fragile humans) *It seems Naomi talked them around to her way of thinking.* (she gave them a day-long presentation of what she called our ‘frightful highlights’) *She convinced them that we are safer left alone than harmed.* (as otherwise we will do great damage in return be it by luck or by design and then nobody could safely contain the resulting chaos) *...That was what _she_ said. If you overheard that.*

“Yeah. Okay. I can see that. So I go to Heaven and I get to live my happiest fourth of July over and over again. Whoopeee.” 

*Dean Winchester, I do not know what the future holds, but with you, me and Sam involved, I am very sure it will not be boring. Or quiet.* (or even safe) *We wouldn’t stand for it.*

“...You’re probably right. Let’s make sure we don’t have to find out how exciting it’ll get right away though. Eyes on the prize.”

\---

Finally the forest gave way to more a more sparsely treed stretch of rocky terrain. Dean started looking around, but there was still too much foliage. The ground was getting steep up ahead, if he could get up there-

*Dean!*

Dean instantly jerked out of the travois’ harness and got his back to a tree in a loose crouch. “What?!”

A faint whistle, chillingly familiar, followed by a crash, and then another, then another and- fuck it, too many, Dean concluded coldly. 

Five figures coalesced around them from the craters they’d made. They were glaring daggers at Dean, though he had yet to meet a Levi in Purgatory who was actually happy to see him. Five of them. This would be a bit much for Dean and Cas together - as in, side by side rather than _together_ together. As it were-

“Cas, need to take over?” Though five - wasn’t that too much for Cas solo even at his best?

There was a knot of foreign tension in the back of his brain. Then: *No. Fight them. I will lend what assistance I can through their interference.*

Dean didn’t have the time to ask what _that_ meant. A Levi jumped him. Dean dodged, and then backhanded the critter just to buy time-

The Levi went flying back twenty feet.

“Huh?!”

He hadn’t felt anything odd- was this ‘assistance’? Had to be.

The circle of Chompers that had been closing in on him paused a second, evaluating this turn of events and waiting for their homie to scrape himself off the rock he’d splattered against. Then they’d attack again, this time all together, yeah, fuck that.

Dean hurled himself at the nearest Leviathan, taking her by surprise- as was always the case when he got aggressive with these overbloated so-called apex predators. She dodged his machete swing, and the Pacman next to her belatedly came to assist. Dean dodged, kicked back hard-

Same effect, the Leviathan went “OOOF!” and found himself ten feet away and half plowed into the loose loam at the foot of a seemingly petrified oak tree.

The chick Levi had let that distract her for a second too long, and found her head hitting a rock and rolling into an angled gulley down the slope like a bowling ball catching the gutter. One down.

Dean shot off towards the three left standing. They were finally getting their act together and rushing him. He got right in there, twisting in his clothes and ripping away from a hard grip - it paid to have layers - while he macheted one of them. Swing and a miss, but the Levi had thrown himself backwards which left the odds less skewed. One punch sent one of the other two hurtling away.

Deep inside, there was a sense of tension, of strain. This ‘assistance’ didn’t come easy, Cas was white-knuckling it. Dean didn’t have the time to concentrate, but he had the distant echo of a feeling that if Cas screwed up these impulses of power he was sending along Dean’s body, the latter could possibly do itself some damage. Rip a limb off, that kind of damage.

“Cas - you sure- need to take over?”

*No.*

“But you-“

*You could reject me during the fight - we’d both die.*

“’Kay.”

Dean decided to ignore the stress from his other half. Cas was tough, he could take it. Dean’s job was to make this fight as short as possible. Time to get vicious.

The last one standing (for all of one second) of the group of three tried to dodge and got a chop in the nut for its pain. Dean spun and threw himself at the one who’d fallen back. He engaged in a vicious tango, evading the Levi’s lunges and teeth while trying to score with the machete. 

Whack! That one down. But the two left were on their feet and wary now, and the head of Dean’s second victim, which he hadn’t had time to kick away, was nearly back within reach of its body which was groping around, trying to assist.

Dean spun, dodged a grip, jumped- wasn’t surprised when he landed ten feet away. An awesome kick sent the creeping head flying off into the woods, bouncing off trees like a pinball through a set of bumpers. A gasping kind of laugh trickled out of Dean’s mouth - it felt like he- like _they_ were fighting as a unit- they knew each other’s moves so well it felt like they were _dancing_. 

The last two standing were grouped together, waiting for him to engage. They were on to him now. Cas had already used up a lot of juice to take out the first two Chompers at the trap; added to that, the exhaustion of helping Dean without killing him. Dean could hear/feel Cas groan as the Levi’s mental strength bore down on him. 

“Cas, take your foot off the gas, I got this now.” Two Levis? Please, Dean could handle that in his sleep. (but not without taking chances). Ugh, fucking underthoughts- Cas understood about doing what needed to be done, and he’d hopefully be able to heal anything that happened. There was no other way to break the deadlock.

Dean ran to one side and, when the Levis turned to follow him, doubled back, angling his attack. He charged one of them full bore and tackled him midriff. He’d gotten the slope behind him, which meant both he and Chompers went tumbling downhill, out of range of the other one for a few precious seconds. 

They hit a rock- the Levi taking the brunt of it, thankfully. Dean got himself disentangled enough to punch the Levi right in its ugly mug and get it to loosen its hold on him. Dean swung the machete up-

He knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough, he knew the other one was running towards him and would catch his six before he could bury its buddy, but he was going to have to take an injury in order to cap this one and even the odds.

Dean’s machete whacked down, beheading the critter-

Like a crazy slightly belated echo, a second _thunk_ rang out behind him, metal biting into something squelchy and then into wood. What the hell- Dean backhanded the head away and spun around. 

As Dean watched, the last Levi’s head toppled towards the ground, away from the ax that had sliced clean through the neck and embedded into a tree. The body swayed for a couple of seconds and then crumpled.

Benny put a foot against the tree and tugged at the ax. 

“Brother,” he said, finally yanking it out with a grunt. “I thought you’d be dead by the time I got here. Forgot what a fearsome fighter y’are-“

Dean strode towards him without a word and pulled the guy into a hug like a clamp.

Benny’s rusty chuckle brushed Dean’s ear. A hand patted the hunter on the shoulder.

“Dean.”

“Benny. You bastard. I thought you were dead.”

“Ah’m too mean to kill. Your brother make it back okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks to you.” He gave Benny one last hard slap on the back before stepping away. “And you’re helping me again. How did you even know I was here?”

“Heard some rumors on the grapevine. Wild rumors as it turns out. I hear they were tryin’ to capture an angel, but when I go to investigate, it’s your scent I pick up-...oh. Oh Dean. Ah’m so sorry, brother.”

“Huh?”

Benny’s hand landed on his forearm, squeezed hard. “I hadn’t realized...the angel they meant...”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, following the direction of Benny’s gaze up the slope a ways. “Oh, Cas? Don’t worry, he’s not dead.”

Benny gave him a troubled look that said that vampires could reliably tell a live snack from a dead one.

*May I speak with him?*

“Sure, go ahead,” said Dean.

Benny looked at him, puzzled.

“Benjamin Lafitte, I am alive. And I’m glad I can thank you for your help last year. I didn’t do so at the time.”

Benny’s eyes flickered over Dean’s face - except not quite his face right this moment. His eyes widened slowly. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile. “Brother...I always told myself I weren’t gonna judge what two consentin’ adults got up to, but ya’re pushin’ me here, ya’re pushin’.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Benny smirked and then kicked the Levi’s head off in the direction of a patch of the ever-present brambles.

“So. Was it hard?” Dean asked quietly.

Benny lifted an eyebrow at him. “What was?”

“C’mon. You know what I mean. You had to have a bullseye on your back when you came back here. After a year, Monsterland knew the both of us too well. You must have been Purgatory’s Enemy Number One.” Dean’s voice was tight with the emotions he’d pushed down this past year, whenever he remembered-

“You’re all Enemy Number One,” Benny snorted. “Ah’m merely what you might call an accessory. Sure, I might have had a few fellas after me. But in Purgatory, that makes a man friends as well as enemies.”

“Friends?”

“Word got out. First rumors that I knew an escape route. Some left when they realized ah’d lost the key, but others stayed, the ones who were tired of this constant huntin’ life. Got five dozen of us now. We got an encampment, fortifications, some safety. With the Leviathans back, there are a lot of large dicks swingin’ around. Some of us, we just want to protect our own space and keep out of their way, ya know. Let the big boys fight it out, we’ll watch each other’s back and stop them from crushin’ people who just want to mind their own business.”

*That sounds familiar.*

Dean looked away, staring blindly at the nearest dead Levi. “So...you’re not coming back with me?” He already knew the answer.

“Naaah.” Benny stuck his hands in his pockets. “I learned mah lesson last time. I did what I needed to do back there. At the end, Purgatory is where a monster belongs.”

“With family is where anyone belong,” said Cas suddenly through Dean’s mouth. “It is not a matter of our origin or our species. On earth you were isolated. Here, you have family. I can feel your people nearby,” he added as Benny glanced at him curiously. “I think they’re worried for your safety.”

Benny looked over his shoulder at a nearby ridge and chuckled. “Yeah. I told them ah’d deal with this, but some of them insisted on comin’. Seems they won’t come nearer unless I holler for help, though. I think you make ‘em nervous for some reason I can’t possibly conceive of,” Benny added, tallying up with some amusement all the beheaded Leviathans lying scattered about. His expression was open and free, more relaxed than any time Dean had seen him on Earth. “Come on, let’s get you both out of here. This ain’t no place for men or angels. The rift is a day’s walk from here, give or take.”

“A day? That’s not too bad. Probably take longer, what with the fighting,” Dean added, his brain returning to calculating Purgatory logistics all too easily.

“Fightin’? Maybe. Maybe not. We might catch a few Leviathan on the downturn, but brother, bad news like you two? Travels fast,” Benny said with a smirk, leading off to the left.

 

\---

 

Sam tried to concentrate, but his brain kept throwing up scenarios, each one worse than the last. His brother and his best friend were missing - they might even be dead. And the Winchesters’ existence being what it was, that wasn’t even the worst outcome imaginable.

Kevin slammed a book closed and sighed, rubbing his eyes. Then he pointed vaguely at the paper they were working on. Sam had written down the strange symbols he’d found burnt on the floor of that barn, two seconds after hearing Dean and Cas shout out, followed by a ringing silence. Kevin had been a champ, giving the slip to his holy watch detail - and even worse, his mom - to hitch a ride to the bunker. He’d started working right away on the photos Sam had sent on ahead while the latter, once sure he couldn’t do anything in situ, had burnt rubber in the Impala to get back to their center of knowledge.

“Sorry, Sam, no luck on my side. It’s not Etruscan, at any rate. Which is good, I just found out way more than I needed to know about early-“

There was a rustle and a sudden wash of air that sent the papers they’d scribbled on flying to the floor.

Sam was on his feet that very instant, angel blade in hand. He leaped towards the figures that’d appeared, getting between them and Kevin.

Then he stumbled and almost fell flat on his face.

Dean! And- and carrying- oh no!

Dean’s eyes widened on the blade a foot away from his face. “Whoa Sammy! Just me! Sam. Kevin Tran. Do not be alarmed.”

Sam had been ready to drop the blade and rush forward to see if there was anything he could do for Castiel. But the very odd way his brother had said those words - twice - kept him rooted to the ground. “Uh...”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be okay,” Dean said, hoisting the body up a bit - a horrified Sam couldn’t help notice the stiffness of rigor mortis. “He’s, ah, in my skull at present. That’s all.”

“Thats. All.” Sam tried to take that statement apart like he was disarming a live nuke.

Dean bustled past him and dropped Cas onto the table with a thump. “So, now that we’re safe and all, can you mojo this thing off?” 

“M-mojo what off?” Sam asked - but Dean held up a hand to shush him.

“Hold on, Sam, be with you in a minute.” Dean frowned, staring at the corpse. “Hmm, the Brainiacs can help with that.” There was a pause. “Oh. Damn. How long?” Pause. ”That’s not too bad.”

Sam made a croaking sound in his throat. Behind the table, a stunned Kevin was staring at Cas’s body which had landed with its head slightly turned and seemed to be staring at him reprovingly.

“You...uh...Dean? What is going on in twenty words or less?” Sam asked, coming around to his brother’s side and staring down at the corpse, horrified.

Dean lifted his hand and started ticking off fingers. “Leviathans dragged us to Purgatory. Mojoed Cas out of his shell. He had to hide in my head. It sucked. Good enough?”

Sam rubbed his eyes until he could see flashes of light and red blotches. Somehow it didn’t help turn this situation into anything that could possibly match the words ‘good enough’, so Sam decided to fall back on what he knew, aka, action. “Okay. How can I help?”

“See this?” Dean ripped open the shirt. And then oh god, his whole expression, and body language just _changed_. His shoulders sank a bit, his stance lost its usual energy, his face became solemn and calm as he turned to stare Sam right in the eye. “This is ancient magic from before the Time of Man. Primeval magic like this can be disrupted by a combination of basic elements. You and Kevin Tran should look at the notes taken from the Leviathan Tablet.”

“You really are both in there,” Sam croaked. 

“Yup.” That was undoubtedly Dean, chin up and stance assured again. “I’m driving - like always - but Cas is shotgun, he can hear you if you have anything MENSA smart to say.”

“Oh good,” said Sam (it sounded like his voice, so he was pretty sure he was the one who’d said that.)

“This is going to take mojo to fix - once we even figure out how. And Cas had his batteries tapped pretty bad while down there, took what little he had left to get us back to the bunker. Levis, you know? Sons of bitches. Oh, but we ran into Benny. He’s doing fine and says hi.”

“Oh good,” said Sam, then remembered he’d already said that.

“So all in all, Cas says it’s going to be an hour or two until he can do anything pertinent. Can you guys do some research into this in the meantime? It might give us a lead on where to start. I’m gonna go take a shower, I’m covered in sweat, blood and Levi goo, I stink like a kennel.”

Sam had noticed, though the rest of the shocks had superseded mentioning it. “Okay. But it would help to have Cas’s input on this.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re out of luck there, ‘cause he’s kind of stuck with me right now,” said Dean with the cheery grin of someone who was way too comfortable with this latest dose of insanity. “Unless you want to give him a roost while I shower?”

“Give him a - _absolutely not!_ ” Sam shut his mouth so hard his teeth clicked and he shook his head hard. “Sorry, sorry, Cas, I- I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that after Lucifer-“

“Don’t bother, he squawked even louder than you did,” Dean said, rubbing an ear. “And you’re both crazy if you think I’m lettin’ my better half and my brother hang out and set up a slide-show of all my most embarrassing moments. You guys do you what you can, I’m gonna...”

Dean’s gaze turned inward, arms crossed absently. “Huh-uh?...Yeah...Unique? It better be unique-....oh...huh...’educational’, right, you sly-” Dean’s gaze flickered up to Sam briefly. He was smiling in a way that his brother felt very uncomfortable with. 

“Yeah,” Dean announced in a mock attempt at casual that didn’t bother to even try. “Shower time. I mentioned that. Maybe a, ah, short nap or something after. So Cas can get his mojo back. I, ah, suggest you guys don’t come knockin’ until I come back out again. Alrighty? See you in a bit!”

Sam did the eye rub thing again, which still didn’t help, then he glanced at the table with the corpse and Kevin still staring at it, looking like a fish.

Finally Kevin blinked, ripped his gaze away from Cas’s dead body, shot up out of his chair and pointed a shaking finger at Sam. “This is why I didn’t want to come back here!” he hollered. “Things like this happen _all the time!_ ”


End file.
